


Deliberate

by bluehawthorn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angry Sex, Angst and Feels, Bendemption, Dominance Fantasies, Dubious Consent, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Hate Sex, Inappropriate Use of the Force, It Gets All Romantic at the End, Light Dom/sub, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Obsessive Behavior, Oral Sex, POV Ben Solo, POV Kylo Ren, Pining, Porn with Feelings, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Psychic Bond, Redeemed Ben Solo, Rendemption, Reylo - Freeform, Rough Sex, Shameless Space Smut, Supreme Leader Ren, That Turns Into Not Hate Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, fantasies, sexual healing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 19:09:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14087700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluehawthorn/pseuds/bluehawthorn
Summary: Every night after Crait he thinks of Rey, imagining all of the ways he would claim her - and thereby reclaim his pride and power after she abandoned him on the Supremacy. When they are next connected through the bond he realizes that she can sense him when he does, can feel the things he thinks about her. He decides to use this knowledge deliberately, changing the tone of his fantasies to try to make her respond to him. She does, but in ways he doesn't expect.





	Deliberate

**Author's Note:**

> This ones, ummm, pretty smutty, and Ben's not on his best behaviour at first. But don't worry...it all ends in cuddles with a side of redemption.

Since that day on Crait when he watched her disappear behind the door of that hateful ship, Rey visits him every night. Well, she doesn't _visit _him, as she used to through the bond, but she does visit his thoughts.__

____

____

Lying in his bed at night, he fights the desolation of his new aloneness with thoughts of her. Specifically, he imagines claiming her, taking back his pride and power after she left him on the Supremacy. 

_She left him. ___

____

____

He imagines her on her knees in front of him, his swollen cock between her pink lips, sliding against her tongue, spreading her jaw open. He imagines flexing his hips so that she has to swallow him, gagging, his hand firm on the back of her head.

He imagines her bent over his desk, taking her from behind, slamming into her tight heat. She would be splayed, her hips tilted up, displaying her ass for him and begging him to fuck her harder. His hand would be around the nape of her neck, jerking her back to impale her on his every thrust.

He imagines pushing her face down on his bed, marking her with his come, pulling her hair, fucking her on her hands and knees, restraining her with the Force.

He takes her forcefully in his fantasies, yes, but it hasn't escaped his notice that he cannot help but imagine her willing. In his mind she always wants his attentions. She's hungry for them. _Yes _, she says, and she cries out for him to give her more.__

_____ _

_____ _

Sometimes he tries not to give in to these thoughts; thinking of her is too painful. But he's too weak to stop entirely. When he thinks of her it's almost as though at times he can feel her, sense her near. It dulls the edges of his loneliness, but the bond itself never flares to life and he's fearful that perhaps it never will again. 

This goes on for so long that he begins to find that he can no longer perfectly summon the shape of her face or the lilt of her voice. He feels bereft, as though he is truly losing her now.

One night he lays sleepless, touching himself roughly as he imagines her under him, her legs slung over his shoulders and her thighs pressed down against her chest as he pounds into her. He imagines burying himself in her so deep that his thighs are slick with her wetness. 

Suddenly the sound in the room changes, the Force rushing in to fill up the space. His head reels with it and he almost thinks it's a trick of his mind when he sees Rey kneeling on the end of his bed. But no, she is real, or as real as she can be through the bond. And she's upset, breathing heavily as though trying to control some sort of emotion. 

When she looks up and sees him she actually hisses, scrambling back off his bed and away from him. Her face is a stormcloud, her chest heaving with fury. "You," she says, making this one word sound like an accusation.

He slowly takes his hand from his cock, sitting up and covering himself as best he can with his sheet. He feels pinned in place by shame, like a child who has been caught doing something against the rules. Something dirty.

It does nothing to dampen his arousal though and in fact seeing her only stokes it, his cock still throbbing and hard. She seems to sense this and her face changes. He had nearly forgotten how expressive her face was, everything she feels written plainly on it for anyone to see.

She still looks angry but he sees something else flicker across her features and he can tell she's trying not to look at him. He senses that despite herself her eyes are drawn to his bare chest, the place where his sheet rests against the outline of his hard cock.

Before he catches himself he smirks. So he _does _have an effect on her.__

____

____

She sees it and her wrath accelerates. She turns away jerkily, her fists clenching, and then whirls back around, spitting, "You need to stop. You need to stop right now."

Stop what? Smirking? He already has and that can't be enough to warrant this level of rage from her. He thinks, but can't imagine what he's done wrong in her eyes in the time since they'd last seen each other. He hasn't even pursued the Resistance, having been mired in learning the bureaucracy of his new position and not wanting a repeat of the disaster on Crait. Besides, there are so few of them left.

"Stop what, Rey?" he asks, deliberately imbuing her name with a sensual cadence. Why not tease her a bit? He kind of likes her furious and overwrought like this. 

"You know exactly what."

He shakes his head. "I really don't. Tell me. Tell me of my crimes against you. Tell me again how I'm a monster."

She seems a bit unsure of herself at this, looking at him as though trying to tell if he's being truthful. She must decide that he is because she explains, her face flushing. "Your...your fantasies or daydreams or whatever they are. About me...about us."

Now he's shocked and actually does feel his erection flag. "How can you..." 

_How does she know? Do even his thoughts have no sanctuary from her? Did he end Snoke's invasion of his mind only to have it be replaced by her instead? ___

____

____

She can't hold his gaze any longer and almost looks as though she will cry. "I...I sense them. I can...feel it. I get flashes too sometimes, of...images. I can't... I can't always block them out and it..." She shudders.

He has a moment of feeling awful and repellant, thinking back to the things he's imagined, how it might have made her feel. He wouldn't guess that she's very experienced in sexual matters.

She confirms this when she says, her voice low and shaky, "The things you think about... I'd never even heard of some of them. I didn't know that people..."

She looks back up at him and her face is vulnerable, open. She's not disgusted in the way he thought she might be. She's...fearful, shy. And _curious. ___

____

____

A dark sense of victory surges through him. He can't help it. She seems to see it and her anger descends over her features again. She glares at him as though he has something to answer for.

He shrugs. "My thoughts are my own. I am sorry if they bother you, but that is not my fault. I didn't choose this connection between us." He places an emphasis on _bother _as though to imply that he doesn't believe this is the correct word at all for how he makes her feel.__

____

____

_He affects her. She thinks about him too. ___

____

____

She imagines her in her bunk at night, his thoughts of her making her feel things, her giving in and touching herself. His cock stiffens again as he imagines her hand between her legs. Because of him. He doesn't try to hide it this time.

This time she does look down. She swallows hard, her fists clenching again. Her eyes trail up to his face, lingering on his chest and shoulders. The tension between them throbs, nearly palpable in the room. He can hardly breathe, his cock aching.

And then she is gone.

********

He doesn't find much sleep that night, but he tries not to soothe himself in the usual way. He doesn't want to make her shut herself down by making her feel anything so soon after her revelation. He could feel how delicate the situation was, how fragile that bit of fascination she hadn't managed to suppress.

And so he touches himself quickly and perfunctorily just to find relief, and then tosses and turns, thinking of the way she looked at him. He replays their conversation over and over, hoping that this is not enough to trigger her ability to feel and see his thoughts.

The next day when he awakes after a few hours of fitful slumber, he sits up in his bed and finds himself in nearly the same position he'd been in while she'd been there with him. It almost seems like a dream.

Somewhere in the night he's come to a decision. He would give her a few days to let her guard down, and then he would see if he couldn't leverage the small opening her curiosity has provided him. At the very least, he intends to make her think about him too.

********

A few days pass, and then he cannot wait any longer. He rushes to his chambers as soon as his duties are complete. He takes extra time showering and shaving, as though he is in fact preparing to be with her. In a way he is.

He undresses, pulling on his sleeping pants and climbing into his bed. The sheets are cool against his bare torso and the mattress gives just a little under his weight. He settles in and begins to think of her.

Tonight it will be different. He plans to imagine things in a way that might be more...welcoming to her. He starts by imagining her in his bed. Having had her there a few nights ago through the bond makes it easy. 

He imagines laying her down, his body hovering over her much smaller one. He imagines kissing her, his hand cupping the side of her face, his fingers trailing down her neck. He imagines touching her everywhere, caressing her lean, supple curves. 

He imagines slipping a hand past her waistband, teasing her with his fingers and slipping one inside. He imagines the sounds she would make in her pleasure.

He imagines undressing her reverently, whispering his lips over her skin. He takes his time, deliberately going slowly, imagining in detail what he would do to her body, how he would make her whimper and writhe.

_He can feel her! _He realizes that all of the times he's thought he sensed her near, he really had. It's not all that strong at first, but then he redoubles his efforts, imagining his face between her thighs, working her with his tongue, fluttering it against her clit.__

____

____

__Her energy grows and it's almost impossible to tell if it's in him or around him. He just senses her, and then slowly, a bit of what she's feeling. Discomfort, anger...he expected those._ _

_____ _

_____ _

He hesitates for a moment, wondering if he should be doing this. In a way he's invading _her _mind now. In a way he is doing what he couldn't even imagine in his darkest fantasies...forcing her to be sexual with him against her will. Despite all the lines he's crossed he never thought he'd cross this one.__

____

____

Not that he hasn't done other things to her against her will...he kidnapped her on Takodana, knocked her unconscious with the Force and put her in an interrogation chair. He'd been relatively gentle, and unsuccessful in the end, but he had entered her mind, taken from her.

This though. This would still be different. 

_Although would it really? ___

____

____

It's not as though he is touching her. He's only thinking about her. It doesn't even register on the scale of his other transgressions.

And then before he can finish weighing the morality of this thing, he feels it and he's lost: her desire. It is woven throughout all of the other feelings, but it's there. He groans, sliding his hand into his sleeping pants. 

He imagines entering her gently, coaxing her open with careful strokes. He imagines how snug she'd be around his cock. He imagines her arching under him.

He can feel her respond. It's indistinct, fuzzy, like sight and sound underwater, but he feels it. It makes him even more determined. He is pumping his hand over his cock, but casually...he plans to last. He plans to take her there with him.

He goes back to imagining laying his body down over hers, fucking her with a slow roll of his hips, placing kisses up along the column of her throat. He is imagining her hands in his hair, pulling him down to her mouth when there is a bright red sparking to the energy he feels from her and then it falters. Another moment and then it fades away.

He roars his frustration. He lost her. The severing is so complete he knows he's not getting her back. He tugs at his cock quickly until he comes, angrily, spilling himself on his stomach and chest. 

When he's done he tells himself that at least he knows she's more than curious. He was able to _awaken _her. This is something.__

____

____

He tries again the next night and the next and the next. He's relentless. Sometimes it takes longer and sometimes it happens quickly but every night he manages to get a response from her and every night he loses her. Always that flash of energy would come and then he'd be alone again. And so he keeps trying.

********

He has lost track of how many nights he's sent his thoughts out into the void, toward her, hoping to feel that small sense of interest blossom in the darkness. And it has, over and over...and then over and over it has died.

He is walking toward the bridge, his mind worrying at the problem of her when it should be focused on his work as Supreme Leader, when suddenly it comes to him. He has been thinking about it all wrong. 

He wants her to be with him to the end but perhaps she's finding her own end. That bright feeling that always comes right before he loses her - perhaps it is the feeling of her finding her climax. Perhaps she hurries her way there so that it is easier to block him out. 

He likes this idea, imagines her rushing her way to orgasm fiercely, the same way she fights and expresses her feelings. Even if it might be to end their connection. At least she has cause to. 

_He affects her. ___

____

____

That night he tries again, and this time he gets a flash of images and can see that he is truly right - she is pleasuring herself. He doesn't get frustrated or discouraged when the sense of her blazes and then disappears. Instead he smiles, enjoying the idea of her coming because of him. _For him. ___

____

____

A few more days pass and each night he conjures images of her in bliss and rapture. It's very subtle but he thinks he may have even gotten a feel for which parts excite her most. 

A night like any other begins, him settling in and starting to imagine worshipping her with his hands and mouth. Suddenly the Force shifts and she's there...beside him in his bed. His breath leaves him and his body goes still in shock. He'd almost forgotten this was a possibility.

It takes a moment for her to realize and he stares at her, transfixed. Her hair is mussed and her breathing rapid as she rocks into her hand, which is caught tight between her thighs. 

Here it is - the evidence of his triumph. She's breathtaking like this.

She sees him and scrambles up to sitting, looking at him with wide eyes. They soon narrow into that rage again and she glares at him as though somehow he's done this - connected them by choice. He simply looks back at her. He has no idea what to do now that she's there with him. 

Finally, she breaks the silence, which has stretched out distressingly long. All that anger jagged in her voice, she spits, "Touch me then. Do it. I want you out of my system."

He knows he's surprised - so much so that he can hardly move - but doesn't know if he's also hurt by this. The spike of lust through his blood is too overpowering for him to take the time to decide. 

He feels himself grow hard, aching for her already. He reaches for her, his limbs moving of their own volition while his mind tries to catch up.

He moves until he is on his knees and puts his arms around her, pulling her her up to kneeling and against him. She feels so good, so warm and vital. He leans down to kiss her and then suddenly she's wrenching herself free of him, shaking.

"No," she says venomously, and he shrinks back, his erection shrivelling. Has he hurt her already? Does his actual touch, or at least the feel of him through the bond, disgust her?

She's breathing heavily. "Don't...don't be gentle. Do it like you used to imagine. Hard. Fast."

He doesn't understand. "But why? I thought...I thought you'd like the other way more."

"It doesn't matter what I like. The old way...its less confusing. I need to remember, who you are. What you are."

With this, he's angry too. He _tried. _He tried to be better for her. He killed Snoke for her. And yet she rejected him.__

____

____

Fine. If she wants it the old way then that is what he will give her.

His voice when he speaks is low, flat, commanding. "Get on your knees for me." Her eyes flash, but she does it, slowly backing off the bed and going down onto her knees on the floor of his quarters. Just as he's imagined her so many times. He can hardly believe it's real. _This is really happening. ___

____

____

His cock hardens again almost immediately at the sight of her. He steps off the bed and moves around it until he's standing over her. He threads a hand into her hair and with his other hand pulls his cock free of his pants. 

She looks at it for a moment, her face inscrutable for once. Then she parts her lips in invitation, and his vision nearly blanks with arousal. He is just barely able to gather himself enough to take his cock in hand and feed it to her slowly. She lets him, molding herself around him as he enters her.

_Force _. Her mouth is silk and fire. It is a crucible in which he is going to die and be reborn. He tries not to let her see how much this affects him but he's sure she can sense it.__

____

____

He's not sure if she's ever done this before but if she hasn't she learns quickly. She runs her tongue around his head like a ribbon of flame, crushes him in the slick oven between her tongue and palate, hollowing her cheeks as she bobs her head back and forth along his length.

He thought he would be the one with the power here, but it's all her. He can barely stay standing upright, his legs weak from the onslaught of sensation she's subjecting him to. The sight of her there on her knees with her lips wrapped around his cock is so erotic it makes his head swim.

She seems to be enjoying the control over him this is giving her. Her hand comes up to wrap around his length while she sucks at what will fit in her mouth. She is making noises in her throat and he can feel the vibration of them along his cock. 

He can't take it. He can't last if this goes on any longer. He would love to fill her pretty mouth with his spend, but he also wants more. He wants to give her more.

Groaning, he puts a hand to her jaw and slowly eases her off his cock. She looks up at him, her lips swollen, and he feels faint with wanting her. Her features are still shadowed by anger but she's also flush with what he knows is desire. He has to be inside her, to try to make her forget everything but the latter.

He has had a small desk brought into his chambers so that he can work when he finds himself sleepless in the middle of the night. He gestures toward it and she takes his meaning. He follows her there and sweeps everything off it onto the floor.

He positions himself behind her and guides her down with a hand on her back until she's bent over the desk. He grabs the waist of her pants and jerks them down around her ankles. Her breath grows shallow but she doesn't fight him.

He takes a moment to appreciate her body as its bared to him - the firm roundness of her ass, her toned legs - and then pulls his own pants right off, kicking them away. He reaches down to feel for her readiness, and her lips are plump and slippery. He eases a finger into her and she mewls out a little sound of pleasure before she can stop herself. 

He can't breathe. _She's so wet. She's so wet for him. ___

____

____

"Do it," she says, still sounding angry. He feels a surge of anger again too. _Why must she rush this? Why must she treat this as though it's something to get over with and move passed? ___

____

____

He tries not to care. He's getting what he wanted, isn't he? Again he resolves to give her what she's asking for. If she wants it hard and fast that is what she will get.

He positions himself at her opening and pushes into her. Despite her seeming readiness, she is so tight he needs to force his way in. He hesitates and she turns her head toward him, snarling. "Don't stop."

He doesn't. He leans into it and her body yields to him a little, her walls stretching around him. His blood is keening with pleasure when he pushes in further but then he feels her wince in pain. 

He stills for only a second and then she's again asserting, "Don't stop." He obeys because he can't not. The molten press of her is obliterating his hesitations and his ability to think at all as he seats himself inside her inch by agonizing inch. 

Her body is tense but she grits out, "Fuck me," and so he does. He takes ahold of her hips and pulls out, thrusting back into her with a moan. She flinches but he doesn't want to disappoint her and he certainly doesn't want to stop, so he does it again. 

_Force, she feels so good. _Better than he could have imagined in a thousand nights of imagining.__

____

____

He loses himself for a moment, slamming into her like he once imagined he would, each glorious thrust pushing her up over the desk. He rides her, her perfect ass soft against his hips, his cock penetrating the perfect hot grasp of her pussy again and again. It's maddening in its perfection.

But....she isn't responding the way he used to imagine. Her body is rigid and she's not crying out in pleasure. She isn't tilting her hips up to meet him.

This isn't right. He's imagined taking her like this many times but now, here in this moment, it isn't right. His mind has played along the grooves of making love to her too many times. He can't do it like this anymore. 

Plus, he's never actually imagined hurting her and he's worried that he is. Pain is the opposite of what he wants to give her.

He withdraws and takes his hands off her, taking a step back. Her breathing sounds ragged as she quickly pulls her pants back up and turns on him, her face a wreck of fury and held back tears. "Why did you stop? I told you not to." Her voice is shaking.

He searches her face. What does she think he is? He's not _this _kind of monster. "You...I was hurting you. You weren't enjoying it."__

____

____

He thinks with a sharp sadness that this will be over now, done, and almost wishes he hadn't given up the opportunity to be with her, however it might be. Perhaps he should have pushed through. She'd told him to, so it's not as though it was truly wrong. Perhaps she would have started to enjoy it more, eventually. 

He's startled out of these thoughts when she pushes him hard toward the bed, her small hands colliding with his chest. He staggers backward. He's ready for the next shove but he gives ground anyway, not resisting her. Eventually his knees hit the bed and he lets her push him back onto it. 

She's stands at the end of the bed, holding his gaze as she strips out of the rest of her clothes. She is stunning, her breasts small and high, her stomach taut, her skin smooth and unblemished except for the occasional scar.

And then she is climbing astride him. She grabs his cock and shoves it into her, and he can't help but grunt with the suddenness and intensity of it. She lowers herself down on him slowly and it's easier this time. He feels her bloom open around him.

She begins to ride him, her hands spread over his ribcage. She rises and falls along the length of his cock, the hot slickness of her sliding along him again and again. 

It's sublime. He feels something like joy, an emotion he can't remember feeling for many years. Victory and satisfaction yes, but not this sweet steady kind of joy that starts like a warm glow in his chest and spreads out into his limbs.

His hands are on her thighs and he can feel her muscles working as she pumps her hips up and down. This, this is better. He can tell she's enjoying it. She's in control of the depth and speed with which he penetrates her and her lovely face is contorted in pleasure. 

But she's still not connected with him at all. She doesn't even look at him, closing her eyes and throwing her head back. And she's rushing, fucking him hard and fast. He's not ready for this to be over so soon. 

He knows what she said, how she wants it, but he can't help himself. She's just so beautiful and his feelings for her so complicated. He reaches up and pulls her down towards him, rolling her onto her back so that she's beneath him.

He's somehow managed to still be inside her. He rolls his hips against her and she gasps. He holds himself up with one arm and with the other caresses a hand over her cheek, down her neck. She squirms, batting his hand away. She is trying to look fierce but she just looks raw, vulnerable. He's reminded of how young she is.

Moving slowly so as not to startle her, he leans down and kisses her. She makes to pull away but he gently pulls at her bottom lip and that is all it takes for her to begin to melt. He gently drags his lips over hers, runs his tongue over them, presses them together.

He also flexes into her a few times, carefully, deliberately looking into her eyes as he does so. She looks back this time until he goes deep, at which point she closes her eyes and cries out, pressing her body up into his. 

_Yes. _This is what he wants. She catches herself and looks frantic for a moment as though this is too much and she needs to get away. He hushes her and plants kisses along her cheek and jaw. As he does so, he feels her surrendering even more.__

____

____

He thinks that if she can feel his fantasies of her maybe she can feel other things too. He leans down and puts his forehead against hers and remembers their past moments of connection. 

_Her telling him about the cave, how she had asked to see her parents; how alone she had felt when she saw only her own reflection. Him telling her she wasn't alone and her telling him the same. Their fingertips brushing, the visions they'd both seen of the other's future. ___

____

____

_On the lift on the Supremacy as he took her to Snoke, her calling him Ben and the way that had shaken him. Her leaning in close, offering to help him. ___

____

____

_The strange intimacy of watching her face when she thought he might kill her. The long gaze they exchanged after he had killed his master instead. Fighting back to back against the Praetorian guards. Her throwing him a lifesaber, again calling him by his old name. ___

____

____

He imagines each moment as thoroughly as he can and sends it to her across the bridge between their minds. He can feel her softening beneath him. She's crying, but its not like before. He raises his head and looks at her, trying to convey how he feels in that moment. How he feels about her.

All his old anger and hurt is gone. In its place is...tenderness. He gently wipes a tear from her face. And then he kisses her again.

This time she opens for him. Her mouth tastes sweet, like the delicate candied flowers that used to decorate the cakes his mother brought home when his father was with them and they would celebrate. The memory should be painful but it isn't somehow, with Rey beneath him.

He explores her slowly. It is easy to kiss her, even though he's somewhat unpracticed; now that she's relented and allowed him close, they are attuned to one another.

He deepens the kiss and she makes a sound at the back of her throat and reaches up to wind her small hands through his hair. Again it's just as he imagined. She pulls him toward her and he begins to move inside her again.

Their bodies quickly find a rhythm together. She wraps her legs around him and they are colliding like stars. 

She relaxes under him and her body is generous and responsive. She meets his every thrust, but the urgency is different now - less desperate, softer.

He can feel every place he's touching her as though it is saturated with light. It goes on for a long time and he loses himself in it.

He is buried in her as far as he can be when he feels the fluttering that signals her orgasm beginning. He says her name, something in him near to bursting with the knowledge that she's about to come apart with him inside her.

Her body tenses and then she's convulsing around him and crying out. "Ben!" she whimpers into his ear as her hands grip his shoulders and her heels dig into the back of his thighs.

He cannot contain what this does to him and his own orgasm takes him, tearing through him. He fucks her through it, filling her as though his very life force is gushing out of him. "Yes," she gasps, just like in his fantasies. She is smoothing the hair from his face, holding him as he's wracked with his climax. 

It calms and he kisses her as they both spasm with aftershocks. When it's over he rolls them so that they're lying side by side, her tucked into the curve of his body, her back to his front. He pulls the blanket up over them and smiles as she cuddles up to him and sighs. 

He holds her in his arms and eventually he can feel her fall asleep. Now here is a revelation. She trusts him not to hurt her enough to fall asleep in his arms. It feels like a piece of redemption and it burns through him almost painfully.

He doesn't know if this will change much between them but he hopes that it will. It has certainly changed him. It'll take time to sort out exactly how but he feels it. He also feels the Force all around them, as if it is not only giving them this time together but holding it sacred and safe. 

He stays deliberately awake, not wanting to miss a moment with her. Eventually she stirs and moves toward him and then it is happening again. He eases inside her and this time they draw it out, languid and slow. 

Soon after they finish again, the connection severs and she's gone. He turns over onto his side and tries to find some rest, sending his sense of gratitude and happiness - _is that what this is? _\- out towards her, hoping she'll feel it.__

____

____

He senses it when she does and can also sense her own feelings, which are mixed but mostly positive. Or at least more so than they were. She's still wary and her hostility, although it has waned, is still there. That's understandable he thinks, considering all he's done. But she also feels satisfied, as though a long thirst has been sated. And most importantly, she wants more...she wants to be with him again in this way.

It's imperfect, but he'll take it. It's more than he had hoped for, even in his wildest imaginings.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments welcomed and appreciated.


End file.
